


Too Much Reinvention

by Epi_girl



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Connor dies, Evan is just trying his best, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Time Loop, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 04:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11372979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epi_girl/pseuds/Epi_girl
Summary: Evan writes the letter.Then he doesn't.He writes it, but he doesn't print it.He doesn't go to school that day.Why can't he just get this right?





	Too Much Reinvention

Evan's hands are shaking as he prints the letter out, heart racing in the few seconds it takes for him to hear that mechanical whirr that signals the printer is, in fact, working. Standing up from his chair, he barely hears the echoing thumps of someone's shoes on tile as they walked into the almost abandoned computer lab. 

That is, until none other than Connor Murphy taps him on the shoulder. 

He whirls around, face pale, and the whirring stops, but he doesn't care because _oh god it's Connor he's gonna kill me--_

"How'd you break your arm?"

Well. That wasn't what he was expecting.

"I-I, uh, fell out of a tree..."

Connor snorts at that, face lighting up with a kind of amused smirk, his dark hair bouncing slightly around his head.

"Well, that's the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard." 

Evan just laughs nervously, the sounds spilling from his mouth without his control. It was sad, wasn't it? Pathetic that he fell, _that he didn't climb high enough--_

"Nobody's signed your cast."

He swallows down the instinctive, snarky response of 'No, really? I hadn't noticed.' and settles for a weakly stuttered "N-no, yeah, I know." God, he sounds stupid. He always sounds stupid.

"Y'got a sharpie?"

Connor sounds bored, almost irritated, and Evan can't blame him. Not with the way this conversation has been going. He fumbles around in his pocket for a moment, hands trembling too much to grip the marker, until he finally gets ahold of it. As soon as he does, he yanks it from the pocket of his washed out, pale brown khakis, handing it to the other boy as fast as he can. He's not entirely surprised when Connor pulls his injured arm up to a comfortable writing level for him, but it's still a little jarring. He drops his arm seconds later, and at the corner of his eye, Evan catches sight of 'CONNOR' written across the entire cast in thin, slightly shaky letters.

It's almost endearing.

"There. Now we can both pretend that we have friends." And it's painful to hear, becaus that's true, isn't it? They're Connor Murphy and Evan Hansen, the angry, sullen stoner, and the anxious kid who no one even sees. They aren't so different. Either one of them could just disappear, and no one would care at all.

A rustling of paper snaps him from his thoughts, and he jerks his head to the side, finding Connor standing over the printer, a sheet of paper, his _letter_ , clutched in his hands.

"Did you write this?" The taller boy's voice is quivering and he turns on his heel, cold glare fixed on Evan.

"Evan Hansen, that's your name, right?" He just barely nods.

And Connor is reading the letter and Evan can barely hear was he's saying, the actual words being blotted out, obscured by the haze of panic swirling around inside of his head. He looks so _angry_ , and almost scared in a way, sad, but mostly full of rage, hands quivering as he keeps reading. And then all of a sudden the teen is shouting, something about Zoe and him leaving the letter to piss him off, face slightly red and eyebrows furrowed-- _are those tears in his eyes?_ \-- and all Evan can do is stammer out "No!" and apologize over and over and over.

But it isn't enough, and Connor storms out, letter still clutched in his hand, and he swears that the other boy is crying. And all Evan wants to do, _needs_ to do, is call after him, tell him to wait, that that letter was _for his therapist!_

But before he can return to his senses, the elder Murphy is gone. 

 -*-*-*-

_try again_

-*-*-*-

Evan's eyes fly open and he's in the computer lab again, sitting in front of a blank screen, the cursor blinking ominously on the empty white page. This isn't right, why is he here, _why does the clock say it's yesterday--_

He hears the footsteps this time.

He turns around. It's Connor again, messy hair bouncing as he walks, black leather boots untied and dark hoodie rumpled carelessly. He did seem to like black.

But before Connor can say a word, Evan is pushing past him and out of the room with a whispered apology, computer still logged into his account, the cursor blinking on the screen.

-*-*-*-

_try again_

-*-*-*-

Evan opens his eyes again, slowly this time. 

He shuts down the computer and leaves.

-*-*-*-

_try again_

-*-*-*-

Evan's eyes flutter open. The computer lab. Of course. 

He begins to type the letter again, leaving Zoe out. That was what Connor hadn't liked, right? That he talked about Zoe?

He hears the footsteps as soon as he presses 'print'.

Standing up from his chair, he turned around to face who he knew now to be Connor, _he'd lived through this three times_ , and smiles a weak little half smile.

They barely talk, Connor simply asking about his arm, signing his cast, and then leaving. It leaves Evan feeling emptier than he should, as he watches the taller boy's black ensemble disappear out into the blandly neutral hallways. 

He fades away.

-*-*-*- 

_no one deserves to fade away_

_try again_

-*-*-*-

Evan doesn't know why this is happening to him, why it's happening at all, as he opens his eyes to see a blank computer screen. It could be the tenth time, it could be the thirtieth, for all he knew. All he could really gather was that it had something to do with Connor. And that interacting with him, here, and what Evan did, would make Connor do, or maybe _not_ do, something.

God, it was confusing.

He falls asleep on the keyboard before he even hears those soft, echoey footsteps.

-*-*-*-

_try again_

-*-*-*-

They make small talk.

Connor signs his cast.

Evan leaves.

-*-*-*-

_try again_

-*-*-*-

Why?

-*-*-*-

_try again_

-*-*-*-

In a slip of the tongue, Evan mentions Zoe. The anger and fear that blossoms on Connor's face is enough to make him bolt, terrified, from the computer lab.

He's halfway out of the school when he realizes Connor never signed his cast

-*-*-*-

_try again_

-*-*-*-

Maybe they are kindred spirits, but why is he trapped reliving these few hours over and over?

How could it be because of that?

-*-*-*-

_try again_

-*-*-*-

Evan stares blankly at the equally clear page in front of him. He doesn't know how many times he's woken up here, in this same, uncomfortable rolling chair, hands situated on the keyboard with an empty computer screen in front of him. He stopped keeping track after the fourth time.

The footsteps. Here comes Connor. Right on time. 

"How'd you break your arm?" He's expecting that. Not like the first time he lived through this conversation.

"I fell out of a tree." He laughs quietly, no longer awkward about the answer. He stopped being like that at least ten tries ago. "Pretty sad, I know."

Connor seems a little stunned, but takes it in stride-- he's good at that, Evan's noticed-- and nods in agreement, smirking just a little. 

"Nobody's signed your cast."

"I know." 

"Do you have a sharpie?"

Pulling the marker from his pocket with practiced ease ( _he's spent an eternity here, he's been in this computer lab for forever_ ), Evan hands it to Connor, holding out his arm. He sighs, barely noticing as the taller boy scrawls his name over the plain white plaster, dropping his arm when he's done. _Evan isn't even sure if it's broken anymore._

Connor chuckles, and he raises an eyebrow. Why would he be laughing?

"You know," he starts, voice gravelly as ever, but more emotional than he'd ever heard it. _Happier_ than he'd ever heard it. "I can't help feeling like I've done this before."

-*-*-*-

_try again_

-*-*-*-

Why is he doing this anymore?

Why is this happening in the first place?

Why him?

-*-*-*-

_try again_

-*-*-*-

Connor signs his cast for what must be the hundredth time. The exchange is the same as it always has been. There's something new in his eyes as he drops Evan's arm, and he doesn't like it. 

He just doesn't know what to do anymore.

-*-*-*-

_try again_

-*-*-*-

Evan Hansen is sick of trying.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have no explanation.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed?


End file.
